


When the Queen commands...

by spooky_blue



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Massage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7838254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooky_blue/pseuds/spooky_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is so silly.  Pretend I didn't write it! Pure PWP so be forewarned :)   There may be a second chapter if I get my act together.</p>
<p>Khadgar is sleeping his way through the Stormwind army and has a chance at the ultimate prize tonight...Anduin Lothar, the Lion of Azeroth.  Will Lothar take the bait?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Queen commands...

Khadgar had staged himself on the bedroll in a position that he hoped was effortlessly sexy.  He’d brought his own bedroll to Lothar’s tent, but when he saw how comparatively luxurious the Regent’s was, he’d opted to take that one instead.  There was room enough for the both of them, anyway.  Lying on his stomach, he wore a long linen nightshirt with lightweight undershorts beneath – standard bedtime attire, he reasoned, that just happened to highlight his bare thighs and the curve of his ass.  Lothar’s pillow was propped under his belly and he was studying, passing the time by trying to focus on calculations for crystalline fields of axiel symmetry.  Knees bent, his feet kicked up towards his head with nervous energy.

He’d joined the Stormwind army at Queen Taria’s request a few weeks ago.  She wanted him to build better relations with the troops and citizens of Stormwind.  Ever since he and Lothar had defeated the Guardian Medivh in the battle at Karazhan, people had started giving him a wide berth and whispering when he passed by, wary perhaps of his powers and the veracity of his story.  Queen Taria’s solution was for him to stay with the troops and build camaraderie as he worked, trained, and lived with them.

Knowing that given the opportunity, the mage would gladly hole up with a book and isolate himself, Khadgar had been told to share sleeping quarters with the troops, rotating every few nights to mingle with as many different people as possible.  Khadgar had had his own ideas about acclimating.  He was fitting in far better than anyone expected.  On the first night, he’d hit it off with a young soldier named Sories, a tall man with dreamy, blue eyes.  They’d fucked in the woods with abandon.  Then he’d met Aenterith, who was of slighter build but an attentive kisser.  And there was Joran, and even serious Varis and gone on a romp, and that time at the lake with four, no – five – soldiers...Khadgar was acquiring camaraderie at an astonishing rate.  The former Guardian Novitiate never did anything by halves, after all.

Tonight he’d been assigned to the Regent’s tent.  He didn’t want to think about it too much.  Either they’d fuck or they wouldn’t.  The man was just damn hard to read – teasing, touching, bossing, ignoring.  He never knew what to expect, or where he stood with the former commander.  What he did know was that Lothar’s presence and touch lingered on his skin and in his mind like fire.  He had to try.

As the night grew long, he became engrossed in the text, chewing on his bottom lip and scribbling notes until his eyes blurred:  “ _Al’tshuler’s relation shows that in intrinsically defectless crystals, their flexural deformations are able to generate spin relaxation of carriers…”_ Khadgar lowered his head the book.  He would shut his eyes, just for a minute, he decided, but he wouldn’t fall asleep.  He wanted to wait for Lothar, but his head was getting so heavy…

\-----

Khadgar woke in a haze. He was disoriented for a moment, trying to remember where he was.  Something hard, a desk maybe, pressed against his face, but he was too tired to move.  He heard quiet shuffling, and realized someone was in the room with him.  _Tent_ , he remembered.   _Lothar’s tent._

A figure bent over him, giving his shoulder a gentle poke.  When he didn’t stir, he heard Lothar sigh, “Bookworm…,”gently pulling the book from under his head and moving the inkpot and quill.  He felt a touch briefly on the back of his head, sliding down and lingering on the nape of his neck.  He thought the hand touched his buttocks, fingers tracing across one cheek before Lothar muttered what sounded like a curse and moved away.

Still shrouded in sleep, Khadgar dreamed weirdly for a moment as he struggled to comprehend … _Lothar, reaching forward menacingly, slamming a bag of apexis crystals down in front of him.  Leaning close with an angry snarl, “Here, mage, keep this…” He was bent over a desk, undressed before Lothar, hands closing greedily around fistfuls of crystal while the mage cackled maniacally.  Lothar pushing one of the sizeable, faceted gems into his willing hole as he moaned in pleasure… “…Something to remember me by until the next crystal delivery.  1,481 to go, right, Khadgar?”_

_“What the everloving fuck?”_ Blinking, Khadgar forced himself to wake.  That was a weirdly specific sex dream.  _“Did he touch my ass?  Or was that a dream, too?”_ Realizing that his rather loud moan was probably audible, he pushed himself up into a sitting position to rub the sleep from his eyes.  In the low lamplight, Lothar was struggling with the clasp on his leather breastplate, his back to the bedroll. 

Khadgar slipped to his feet, lightly brushing Lothar’s shoulder with a hand.  “Let me help you.”  Lothar huffed in frustration, then turned obediently so he could reach the breastplate.  Khadgar stood nearly against the other man, slim fingers working deftly at the buckles.  “These are really jammed,” he said neutrally, breathing in the scent of sweat and leather and Lothar.

“Got smashed.”  Lothar’s reply was tired. “Yesterday.  Can’t get it off.”

“You’ve been wearing this since yesterday?”  At last Khadgar managed to free the buckle, sliding the breastplate off of Lothar’s shoulders and onto the floor.  “Here.  Sit.”  He pushed Lothar, unresisting, down into a chair next to the bedroll.  Kneeling down, he pulled at Lothar’s boots and socks, surveying the man.  Lothar looked so tired, as if he were carrying the full weight of the kingdom on his broad shoulders.  In a way, he was.  Impulsively, Khadgar leaned forward on his knees into an awkward, spontaneous hug that surprised them both.  Large, brown eyes searched Lothar’s face.  “I haven’t seen you in days.”

“I know,” said Lothar.  His voice, Khadgar thought, was heavy with responsibility. Then, sounding more like his usual, teasing self, Lothar rubbed at the younger man’s cheek with his thumb and said, “You’ve got ink on your face.” 

“Oh.” Khadgar yawned, one hand twitching towards his face unconsciously.  “I was waiting for you.”  He slid backward to rest his head against Lothar’s knee, moving in a way to suggest more sleepiness than he actually felt.  His hands moved to the bare feet and began to rub, gently at first, then steadily kneading up and down the tired joints.  Blinking up at Lothar through long, dark lashes, he asked innocently, as if his behavior were perfectly normal, “How was your day?”

Lothar stared back at him, tense for a moment, then relenting and sinking back into the chair with a groan.  “You are so good at that.”

“Mages are always good with their hands,” Khadgar replied lightly.  He continued to work in comfortable silence, moving up to massage tired calves, knees, thighs.  Lothar rested an affectionate hand on the back of his head, eyes half lidded as he melted into the sensations.  Khadgar noticed with satisfaction that Lothar’s breathing had perceptibly quickened, and he allowed his head to sink forward slowly until his cheek grazed against the front of Lothar’s pants.  He rubbed back and forth slowly against the hardness there, noting the effect it was having as emotion flickered across the older man’s face.  Khadgar blinked up, with an unspoken question.  The fingers in his hair tightened, gripping lightly, causing his heart to skip faster and a shiver run across his body. Lothar’s bemused expression seemed to say, _“Well, then,”_ but he didn’t push away.

That was all Khadgar needed.  He felt charged with energy, heart knocking against his chest in anticipation.  Nuzzling his face against Lothar’s groin, he planted kisses along the growing warmth as he undid Lothar’s belt, then unfastened his trousers.  Lothar’s brain might not be quite certain about fucking the mage, but his dick was well on track.  Pulling the cloth aside, Khadgar’s mouth met smooth, hot skin, kissing and sucking carefully at first, then with intensity. 

Soft, wet sounds filled the tent as Khadgar explored Lothar’s fully hard cock, and he whimpered with pleasure.  It seemed that no matter how many dicks he sucked, he was still fascinated by the shape and texture and taste and smell.  The entire experience was intoxicating.  Sometimes he craved it, being filled and fucked by another man, to the point of actual suffering.  Lothar’s body under his mouth was a release and a gift that he reveled in, wanting every moment to last.  Long moments passed, his jaw and throat aching even as his mouth watered for more.

Lothar’s hands found the sides of his face, holding him still for a moment.  “Let me ride you,” he said.  Desire had given his voice a husky timbre that made Khadgar clench, and he allowed Lothar to lead him to the bedroll and work off his clothing.  He pulled the older man down for wet, hungry kisses, squirming, consumed by the need to be fucked and knowing he wasn’t going to last very long.  His body shook, the fullness threatened to overwhelm him with every deep thrust until he cried out, knowing dimly that he was being too loud for the quiet camp but as the orgasm carried him away, he didn’t care.

\---

When his vision cleared, he realized with disappointment that Lothar, now flopped on the bedroll beside him, must have finished when he did. 

“You came.” He pushed himself onto his elbow, voice going a little plaintive.  “I missed it.”

Lothar laughed.  His chest still heaved, covered in a light sheet of sweat.  “You passed out, bookworm.”

“I didn’t,” Khadgar objected, blinking prettily.

“You did.  I cleaned you up.”  Lothar passed him a damp cloth.  “Couldn’t get the ink off your face though.”

Despite himself, Khadgar was impressed. “Shit.  Nobody’s fucked me senseless before.”  His mouth sought Lothar’s again, this time stealing sweet, soft kisses.

 “You were waiting for me.”  It wasn’t a question.

Khadgar paused.  “I’m fraternizing,” he said.  “The Queen told me to.” 

“Right. _Taria_ told you to climb on my cock.”  He could hear the smile in Lothar’s voice.

“Mhm.  Practically.”  Khadgar nuzzled his neck. “You should send her a full report.  Tell her how well I’m adjusting.”

“Let’s not do anything hasty.  We really don’t know how well you’re adjusted, just yet.”  Lothar poked his chest in the darkness.  “Perhaps you’d better stay in my tent for a while.  I may need a few more days’ worth of evidence before I can convince the Queen of your success.”

“As you wish, Lothar.”  Khadgar smiled to himself.  “You’re my commander, after all.”

“And you’re my mage, bookworm.”

\---

 


End file.
